Mark Johnston

Summer Seven

This email went out to all Journey leaders this past Monday. I pass it along because I thought you might want to join us in "Summer Seven." Read on:

Good Monday Afternoon Journey Leader!

I trust your week has launched well.

Many of you know that every fall at The Journey we do something called “Fall 40”: 40 days of focused prayer and fasting for spiritual breakthrough and growth. God meets us in incredible ways, and we become more attuned to Christ in the process.

For several weeks, I’ve been feeling a strong call to prayer and fasting. Fall 40 is coming, but it’s three months away. So we’re gonna do “Summer Seven.”

I want to invite – in fact, to be honest urge – you to join me in prayer and fasting beginning this coming Sunday, July 12 and continuing through the following Saturday, July 18. Here’s how it’ll go down:

*For the first six days (Sunday – Friday), we’ll all fast something specific. I’m going to go without coffee and sugar. You might choose to give up movies, the internet, chocolate, baseball, lawn bowling… whatever usually captures your attention or energy on a regular basis and will be a sacrifice to do without.

*On the 7th day, from dinnertime Friday through dinnertime Saturday, we’ll all fast completely. No food; no drinks (except water)… just a time of fasting unto God.

*Sometime during that final 24 hours of “Summer Seven” we’ll dedicate one hour to personal prayer. We’ll get up early Saturday morning, or slip away Saturday afternoon, and pray for an hour.

The focus for these seven days of prayer and fasting will be simple: inviting God to make himself known in his power at The Journey. We’ll ask for his blessing, his grace, and his direction. We’ll believe he’s going to respond to our petitions.

Sarah Lang recently called all Life Group facilitators and hosts for our summer semester to prayer and fasting on Monday, July 13; not knowing I was planning this. She told me she’d been feeling the need for prayer and fasting. I think that may be confirmation.

Guys, this is the simple truth: The Journey is a uniquely innovative church. We don’t fit the mold. That means we can’t rest on our laurels. We can’t do what we’re audaciously dreaming about doing – and more importantly, become what we’re audaciously dreaming about becoming – without the power of God at work in, through, and around us.

So let’s pray and fast.

Email me back and let me know you’re in. Leaders lead. Let’s lead spiritually.

Love you much!

Pastor Mark

Stop... in the Name of Love

“My Lord, if I have now found favor in Your sight, do not pass on by Your servant” (Genesis 18:3 – NKJV).

When I was a little kid, we used to sing a goofy song called “Father Abraham.” Father Abraham… had many sons… many sons had Father Abraham…

It’s a big deal that Abraham had many sons, because he was pushing 100 before the first one was born. It’s an amazing story, one that sets the tone for all the stories that follow it. In the middle of it, Abraham is sitting in his tent door in the heat of the day. Three men appear nearby. Abraham runs to meet them, recognizing that they are ambassadors for God. (We learn later that two of them are angels. The third seems to be a “theophany” - a temporary, visible manifestation of God himself.)

He bows low before them and says, “My Lord, if I have now found favor in Your sight, do not pass on by Your servant.”

When I read these words this morning, for some reason they leaped off the page at me. This is my prayer today: “Lord, if I have now found favor in your sight… if on any level you are pleased with me… if you love me… please do not pass on by.”

I haven’t greeted the sons you’ve promised were coming yet. I haven’t had my fill of you yet. Do not pass on by.

It’s a heartfelt plea that speaks of relationship, brokenness, urgency and passion. And it’s my Sunday morning prayer.

Do not pass on by.

I need you, my family needs you, my church needs you, my neighborhood needs you, my culture needs you, my planet needs you.

Do not pass on by.

(You can find the biblical story of Abraham in Genesis 12 through 25.)

Prayer - It's the Craziest Thing

I realized something kind of interesting today.

When I pray (really pray; pray to the point of shutting down every other component of my system and locking my heart and spirit in on God), God meets with me.

He speaks to me.

He gives me peace.

And direction.

When I pray like that, pushing through the inevitable flood of distractions that threatens to drown my spiritual attentiveness as soon as I begin, God responds. A few minutes in, inevitably, he begins to work; subtly sometimes, intensely others, but it’s him all right – doing transformational things inside me.

When I begin, I’m frustrated, I’m scared, I’m weary, I’m excited, I’m spastic, I’m lazy, I’m pumped, I’m pitiful. And a few minutes in, all of those superfluous emotions fade and it’s me and him, abiding in each other.

Jesus, I’m really glad you do that when I pray. You’d think I’d get a clue and pray far more often and far more passionately and for far longer periods of time, instead of rushing around trying to fix everything with my pea-brain’s worth of perspective.

I think I’ll start praying more. Not because I’ll feel guilty if I don’t. Not because prayer is another notch in my glory belt. Not because it’s what Christians/pastors/people with issues like me do.

But because when I pray, really pray, you work in me.

Whine

This morning we held Life Groups Facilitator/Host training at The Journey. It was fantastic: Sarah Lang, crazy-mad props to you for an incredible presentation. Sharp, sharp, sharp.

About noon, as we were finishing up, my wife tapped me on the shoulder. She led me to the preschool room where the ceiling tiles were buckling under, no lie, our third major leak at our campus in the past month. This time, it was an air conditioning unit – one of the ones we just spent $1500 having fixed 48 hours ago.

Ray and Julie Longwood helped us clean up and replace the ceiling tiles. Two hours later, as I was finishing up another meeting and getting ready to head to a birthday party, Susan called for me. The ceiling was leaking again.

I called our A/C people and they told me they couldn’t come until tomorrow morning. So we packed the kids up and headed (late) for the party. Then the A/C people called back – and said they were on their way. We turned around, my wife dropped me off at the church, and I’ve been here ever since hanging out with a friendly guy named Hai who’s been trying to figure out what the problem was.

It’s 6:00. It’s Saturday. I’ve been in this building all day. I still have at least 5 hours of studying ahead of me before crashing for some sleep, then arising early to pray and go over my notes and head back here for another full day of gatherings and meetings. This past week, both of our cars went into the shop: $800. Over the last 5 days, I’ve grappled with a major financial mess left on our church’s doorstep, listened to a contractor who has made empty promise #138 regarding work that was supposed to be completed three weeks ago, and picked up the pieces from a big ministry mistake I made recently (it wasn't here). To add insult to injury, somewhere at a birthday party someone’s polishing off their final bowl of ice cream.

And you know what? It’s okay. I signed up for this. There’s nothing I’d rather do than serve well, and sometimes that means sucking it up and stepping in. Should the Lead Pastor be hanging out with the A/C guy on a Saturday afternoon instead of praying and preparing for Sunday? Nope. That’ll need to change. But for now, I was here, and I’m not about to let something important regarding God’s church go undone just because “it’s not my job.” Do I wish I had a little more (lot more) cash flow right now to handle the mounting bills our family is suddenly facing? Yep. (Did you hear that God?! YEP!) But I have food to eat and clothes to wear, so according to Jesus, all my needs are met. Will I learn from the mistake I made? You’d better believe it. But I refuse to bow low under the weight of it and obsess over how I wish it had never happened.

I’m a follower of Jesus. We know how to roll with the punches.

I’ve been a whiney-butt in the past. Rarely out loud, just in my own head. I’m not going to whine about this. I’m going to finish this blog and go pray and study – because tomorrow, God’s going to meet with us in a significant manner. We’re going to experience God and become or grow as followers of Jesus. And if I’m loaded down with a whiney, why-me attitude, I’ll just be in the way.

A/C, you’d better work. Cash, you’d better flow. Mark, you’d better learn. But if not, I’m not quitting. I’m going to live my life big, serving and giving and making everything I touch “my job.”

Sayonara.

Stuff I've Done Right - and Wrong

A couple of months ago, I took a few minutes of pondering time. Time to think about thirteen years of ministry (I groan as I write that – feeling old). I thought about what I’ve done right and what I’ve done wrong: and there was something remarkable about the list. I thought I’d share it with you. I think it’ll make sense whether you’re a preacher or a bank manager. I’ll begin with stuff I’ve done right:

*Held the line. My stubbornness borders on profound, and that can be a bad thing (more on that in a minute); but it’s also proved to be a gift at times. Tenacity propels dreams and visions forward when more flexible people might cave and go do something else. Church planters need a little grit in their guts. I think God has gifted me with that.

*Demanded the best. I’ve been unwilling to compromise the commitment level and work ethic of those who lead close to me. I may have wiggled and wondered a while; but I’ve always come back around to the principle that kingdom stuff ought to be top-notch, passion-fueled, and next-level.

*Worked hard. I’ve working stinking hard. Not always at the right things (more on that in a minute); but I’ve worked hard. I’ve gotten up early and stayed up late. I’ve said “no” to leisure and “yes” to labor more often than not. And it’s paid off.

*Moved quickly. I’ve jumped in when more cautious people were still grappling with superfluous issues. If I know it’s right, I do it; then I figure out the rest of the ramifications later. That’s helped The Journey take rapid, decisive steps in ministry that were risky… but ultimately right.

*Burned bridges. I haven’t sat around nurturing regret. I’ve moved on, moved forward, and moved through circumstances and criticism that might have stopped others in their tracks.

You don’t think I’d just brag about what I’ve done right do you? Here’s the stuff I’ve done wrong. See if you notice anything interesting:

*Held the line. Remember when I said my stubbornness can be a bad thing? It really, really can. I’ve been unyieldingly stubborn at times – and as a result, I’ve missed out on ideas and decisions that would have contributed to a healthier approach to life and ministry. My relationships have suffered at times from my inflexibility.

*Demanded the best. I’ve demanded the best of people who, whether because of personality, calling, or season, weren’t able to give it in a certain area of ministry. And it’s hurt them and me. I’ve blurred the line between top-notch, passion-fueled, and next level and appearance-oriented, workaholic, and overbearing. If you’ve suffered at my hands, I’m deeply sorry.

*Worked hard. I’ve worked too hard at times on stuff that didn’t matter as much as I thought it did at the time. I’ve wasted precious moments working frantically away on things that it has now become clear actually contributed very little to God’s kingdom or people’s growth.

*Moved quickly. That same decisiveness and rapid response has cost me at times – especially with people. I wish I’d moved even quicker with programming decisions; but more slowly with relationships and staffing/placing decisions. I’ve jumped the gun often, and it hasn’t always been pretty. I’ve ignored important information, gut checks, and words of caution from people I should trust.

*Burned bridges. I’ve cut people off when they didn’t perform up to my expectations. I’ve used departures as an opportunity to air my true feelings. I’ve been proud, selfish, petty, and stupid. I wince when I think about it. I can be so focused on what I think (know!) is right that I become abrasive, arrogant, and very much unlike Christ.

By now you’ve noticed, as I did, that the list of things I’ve done wrong is exactly the same as the list of things I’ve done right. My gifts have sometimes become lead weights around the legs of my life and ministry. The abilities and talents and traits that God has generously bestowed upon me, I’ve frequently misused and even abused.

So what am I going to do differently over the next 13 years if God allows? I’m still going to hold the line, demand the best, work hard, move quickly, and burn the right bridges. But I’m going to become more flexible, people-oriented, balanced, attentive, and forgiving in the process.

What have you done right? What have you done wrong? What are you going to do now?

Sex Symbol

NOTE: I wrote this blog some time ago. I hope the timing of me posting it is more than coincidental for someone out there in the blogosphere.

I’m sitting somewhere working on this coming Sunday’s message and there is a woman a few feet from me who is exuding an almost tangible sexuality. She’s come to meet a guy here; their relationship isn’t intimate yet, but it seems clear that he has been drawn in. She tosses her hair and draws out her words – they drip with a thinly veiled sensuality. She laughs at things that aren’t very funny; she commands attention with a sing-song voice that’s just a little louder than necessary…

So I asked my Father to speak to me about this. And it seems to me her internal life may be rotting away. I feel it's possible that all of her efforts to attract the attention of men are leaving her with a very superficial sense of wholeness that grows increasingly fragile. It seems to me that she has worked hard over time to create an identity loaded with sexual expression; and it has paid off on the surface but not in the soul. I don’t know what she’s compensating for, running from, hoping to keep hidden beneath layers of beauty and flirtation… but eventually, ultimately, it will prove ineffective.

The emptiness of a wandering, unhinged sexuality pervades our culture. Lost in the midst of this is the immensely beautiful sexuality of a rooted relationship; codified by public commitment, saturated with sacrifice and the constant yielding of oneself to another, coupled closely with the confidence that the other has one’s best interests at heart.

It is the softness of the soul that marriage calls for that makes sex great for those willing to pursue it in all of its fullness. There is something about the need to bend my desires – not for a night, but for a lifetime – to the pressing influence of the well-being of one other person, created by God to complement me, that makes intimate expression joyful, exuberant, and fulfilling… rather than fleeting, fake, and deceptively hollow.

To every young woman tempted to paint sexuality upon the snowy white canvas of your soul; to every young man convinced that a few minutes of physiological release can somehow compensate for a life bowed to Christ and a yielding to his timing and purpose; I urge you, by the mercies of God: present your bodies a living sacrifice to God, holy, acceptable, and pure… in an act of spiritual service.

For the lips of an adulteress drip honey,
and her speech is smoother than oil;
4 but in the end she is bitter as gall,
sharp as a double-edged sword.
5 Her feet go down to death;
her steps lead straight to the grave.
6 She gives no thought to the way of life;
her paths are crooked, but she knows it not.
(Proverbs 5:3-6 – NIV).

Symbols are ultimately unsatisfying; a poor substitute for reality. Sex is more than a symbol.

If you're pursuing a symbol at the expense of your character, come clean. Confess. Change. Don't keep holding hands with someone whose feet are going down to death; who gives no thought to the way of life.

Vacillation

At times, I am full of faith: overflowing confidence in Christ and in who I am in him. I act on his word, I trust in his grace, and I walk in his Spirit.

At other times, I am plagued by doubt: gnawing, paralyzing fear that I am unqualified for spiritual significance. I hesitate to obey, I lean on my own efforts, and I proceed in the flesh.

At times, my life brims with fresh fruit: patience and kindness, love and meekness, joy and peace. I turn the other cheek, go the second mile, and find contentment in the midst of imperfection.

At other times, my life spills over with trash: haste and selfishness, bitterness and pride, arrogance and worry. I flare up, cop out, and covet what belongs to my neighbor.

I vacillate.

It bothers me. Why haven’t I stumbled upon the nirvana of discipleship yet? Why am I not much, much more like the One I am brokenly, stumblingly following? Why can’t my good Mondays spill over into good Thursdays; my great this weeks into fantastic next weeks?

The truth is I AM much, much more like Jesus than I was a month ago, a year ago, a decade ago. It’s just that the more I see of him, the more glimpses I catch of his glory, the more my deficiencies become glaringly obvious; painfully present; embarrassingly evident.

I see this vacillation so often as a curse. But maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m not a million miles off course. Maybe I’m right where God wants me: growing, stretching, fumbling forward toward Christ-likeness. Maybe my brokenness is the right environment for his blessing. Maybe my pain is the right catalyst for his power.

Maybe if I believe, he’ll help my unbelief.

Do you vacillate? Are you sometimes up, sometimes down? Does it bother you? I think it’s dangerous if it doesn’t – if we just numbly accept our inconsistencies as inevitable and don’t struggle free of them again and again by the power of Jesus. But I also think it’s dangerous to keep expecting the fullness of heaven in the midst of the incompleteness of earth; glory before its time.

“In this world,” Jesus said, “you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33 – NIV).

Yes you have, Christ. And one day I will overcome, once and for all, my vacillation. Until then, I’ll keep falling and following, stumbling and striding, losing and winning… in your direction.

Volunteer

This past weekend, we launched “It’s Your Serve” at The Journey. Ever play tennis (Wii counts too!)? Volleyball? Ping-pong? If so, you know that serving puts the game in motion. The same is true with our spiritual growth: when we serve, we put the ball in play in the game of life.

In fact, the game of life is at a standstill until somebody serves.

That’s why volunteering is such a big part of our purpose at The Journey. We believe dedicating some of our time on a regular basis to volunteering on a team can spark us to start viewing our whole lives through the lens of serving.

It’s your serve: volunteer.

As I reflected on the weekend message, I thought about some ways I’m trying to improve the quality, accuracy, and consistency of my serve:

• READING. Someone once told me that in five years, I’ll be a product of the people I spend time with and the books I read. Good books sharpen, stretch, reshape and refine us. Recently I’ve dug back into classics like “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People” by Stephen Covey and “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff” by Richard Carlson: great books that remind me to look closely at the values governing my life. Books like “1776” and “John Adams” by David McCullough have graced my nightstand as well – something about reading about heroic sacrifice makes me want to live large for a noble cause. And spiritual fodder like “Ordering Your Private World” by Gordon MacDonald and “The Rest of God” by Mark Buchanan keep me on track. Do I agree with everything these authors write? Nope. Do I grow when I keep a steady diet of books in my life? Yep.

• LISTENING. I have a fifteen minute commute every morning and evening. I used to stare mindlessly through the windshield. Now I listen to CD’s: currently, those from the Catalyst conference (www.catalystconference.com) and the Renovare conference (www.renovare.org). A couple of weeks ago, a message by John Ortberg lodged a concept in my spirit that has generated a ton of reflection: the difference between a user of Jesus and a follower of Jesus. Amazing stuff.

• INTERACTING. I want to spend time with difference-making people. I mentioned one in my message this past Sunday – Dena, my son Conner’s lead therapist. She lives a life of tremendous personal discipline and sacrifice, after making a choice to adopt a child with severe developmental delays and medical challenges. Now, she dedicates her time to work with children with autism. She inspires me to serve.

• PRAYING. This is crucial. Without this, everything else is hype. I submit myself to God formally (in dedicated times of focused prayer), and informally (praying always in my spirit). I’m continually asking God to reshape my mind so I have the mind of Christ – because I know that when I’m equipped with the mind of Christ, I’ll live a life that serves. I want to grow in this area these next few months!

• And finally, JUST DOING IT. This is where the rubber meets the road. Practicing a life of service is how I get good at it: finding ways to extend myself, outside of the zone of comfort I typically cling to, and making a difference for someone.

It appears to me that one of the greatest crimes some of us as Christians are going to have to answer for is why the average unbeliever is often more peaceful, generous, involved, and determined to make a difference in the world than we are. If we don’t start putting the ball in play, the game of life (and spiritual growth) may never really begin for us. But if we'll serve, we'll grow - and be more like the Christ we profess to follow.

It’s your serve: volunteer.

Serve

It appears to me that it is impossible in any ongoing way to compartmentalize a life of service. We're either people who serve... or we're not. We're either growing into more and more abandonment to Jesus Christ and intentional giving toward others... or we're not.

Serving other people stinks sometimes. It's peeling off my ego, laying aside claim to my time and stuff, and giving what I love the most away with absolutely no promise of ever receiving anything tangible in return.

You have to be pretty mature to do that. I feel like it's the big thing in my life right now. I'm really surprised and dismayed by my own selfishness; how often I choose agenda over people. I'm determined - absolutely, unequivocally - to collapse into the grace of God over and over again until I am reshaped to serve.

An email I received the other day from Ray Longwood, one of our team leaders at The Journey, helped me with my decision:

Crazy stuff yesterday! I was on my way to a doctor's appointment in People's Plaza yesterday. I stopped for a red light at route 40 (right near the car dealership) when all of a sudden I heard yelling and banging from behind my car. I looked in my rear view mirror and saw an extremely angry man screaming and banging a night stick on the driver’s side window of the car behind me. He was screaming all sorts of profanity and demanding that the driver get out to "get what he deserves." The cars beside me attempted to blow through the light to avoid the altercation. I sat for a few seconds and my flight/fight reflexes started reacting. All of a sudden a peace came over me and something told me to calm this man down. Without thinking, I put my car in park and proceeded to walk toward the angered and emotional man with my hands outward and speaking calmly for him to relax. I walked slowly toward him, realizing that he had a "weapon". I made eye contact with him briefly amidst his screaming and banging so I knew he saw me and that I was no challenge. I then walked up to him and placed my hand on his shoulder and asked him "Is this worth going to jail over?" "It's not worth it bro." He kept screaming and I repeated the gesture. He turned to me, took a deep breath, and said "You're right man." It was like I was talking to a different person. He immediately calmed down and stepped back into his 2008 Cadillac Escalade. I looked in the car of the almost attack victims to make sure they were ok and saw two young men in their 20's, scared and shaking. They gave me a wave in thanks. I got back in my car and I began to sweat in realization of what I just did. The light finally turned green and I proceeded into the parking lot of my doctor's office. The guy that attempted to blow the light pulled right next to me and asked what I said to the angry man to calm him down. I told him and he proceeded to ask me if I was in law enforcement or something and I told him no. "I'm just a regular man like you", I told him. He was in awe of what I did. I was in awe as well. I knew it wasn't me, but the Holy Spirit within me. God placed a conviction on my heart to do something about the situation. I felt that my involvement in the situation could greatly change the outcome of the situation. Had I ignored the conviction that God placed in my heart for this situation, it could've been bad. I would have felt bad knowing that I didn't act when God asked. Spiritual conviction is always partnered with action that reflects the fruits of the spirit. You never feel an emptiness or guilt when spiritually convicted instead you feel responsibility, awareness, and a will to take action. Let's be convicted to share the love that Christ has placed within us with the world! Time to take action!

And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds (Heb. 10:24 - NIV).

I'm proud of you Ray. And I'm spurred on to good deeds - to serve - by your faithfulness.

Can't. Keep. Up.

Can’t. Keep. Up.

Have you ever had one of those days/weeks/months? You know: the kind where you just feel like you simply… Can’t. Keep. Up.

You put one fire out and another one erupts a few yards away. The smoke makes your eyes water and your resolve weaken. You make one person happy and barely have time to celebrate before the sinking feeling sets in that someone else is not so content. You meet one need only to be overwhelmed by a half-dozen more.

Each day I wake up thinking that this might be the day I’ll check everything off on my to-do list; complete every task; accomplish every objective; change the world.

Maybe tomorrow will be that day.

I just… Can’t. Keep. Up.

I’m a typical human doing. Flustered by the fact that my superpowers haven’t arrived yet. Surprised for the millionth time that I am still an imperfect, incomplete reflection of my Maker; a circus-mirror version of the one who made me in his image. I move so quickly I miss the moment; ignore the voice; impatiently push aside the unexpected because I need to hurry off to roll up my sleeves and fail again.

Can’t. Keep. Up.

Then I pause. Breathe. Smirk at myself and my silliness. And I remember what Jesus said.

I’m going to include it below. It’ll take you a couple of minutes to read. You know, maybe you don’t really have time. Maybe you should get back to pretending to keep up.

If not, here goes:

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not remain in me, he is like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you. This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples (John 15:1-8 – NIV).

Did you catch that? “Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me." "Apart from me you can do nothing."

If I stay enveloped in the presence of Jesus, my life will be fruitful. If I run frenetically off to do my own thing, I’ll be like a branch that’s thrown away, withering in the middle of my busyness, dying apart from Christ – waiting to be burned by all those fires around me I was hoping to put out today.

Don’t. Have. To. Keep. Up. Just have to stay close to him.